All Through the Night
by wyestmsiylmys
Summary: Alana's having trouble sleeping, but don't panic 'cause Will knows just how to help


**All Through the Night **

Will Graham was no stranger to broken sleep. Quite the opposite, there was once a time not so long ago where the idea of sleeping through the night without waking up in a cold sweat with flashes of bloody murmurs, twisted corpses and demonic stags following him into his consciousness, was little more than a distant dream.

But that was a long time, a lengthy court battle, a move out of state, and a (Will would now argue 'minor'- although others may disagree) breakdown ago. Now his name had finally been cleared and the true identity of The Chesapeake Ripper had been revealed Will was able to look to the future, look towards the positivity in his life that had been plagued by monsters for far too long.

All that was missing were the bluebirds singing over head.

He'd admit it though; he definitely didn't mind being woken up tonight, especially not like this, there were certainly worse ways to be woken up in the middle of the night that was for sure, there were better ways (ways that had landed them in this here in the first place- not that he was complaining, god no anything but), he yawned noisily blue eyes looking over to spy the woman sharing his bed through the dark, who had been unofficially sharing his bed since his release from Baltimore State Hospital. Well, they'd tried to keep it unofficial, keep it quiet and, more importantly, keep it private throughout his court case, lest their budding romance jeopardize their case against the countless accusations again Will somehow.

Of course everyone knew, although no one said anything, or acknowledged what was probably pretty damn obvious to anyone who knew them just how far their relationship had moved, but well... there was no hiding it now. Thankfully, there was also no _reason_ to hide it now.

"Alana," he croaked, voice strained, not quite ready to be used so soon after waking and Will flipped his head to look at the clock beside him. A futile attempt, the numbers immediately blurred with an unfortunate mixture o the remaining haze of sleep and his own poor eyesight, but he could just about make out a... Was that a 4?

God it was so early! Or late!

Whatever.

"I'm fine, go back to sleep," came the frustrated reply, her own voice holding none of the same grogginess his own did.

Will looked back at her, unable to stop the breath of a sigh as his gaze, slowly getting used to the dark, followed the shape of her back, leaning back, her feet somewhere off the edge of the bed as sat faced away from him. One hand was braced on the mattress behind her, holding her weight up as she leant back in search of a position that was somewhat comfortable (although they both knew she'd have difficulty finding one this far along), the other unseen, although he could vividly picture it making small circles on her stomach.

These days, Will wasn't the only stranger to a decent night's sleep.

Sitting up, Will slid into place behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder after ghosting his lips across her equally as soft cheek, linking his hand with hers on her front, letting the quiet envelope them again, his large hand effortlessly taking dominance over the speed, pressure and size of the shapes they now took a joint effort in rubbing. She was in pain, he knew this and he couldn't stop the guilt seeping into him, no matter how often she would laugh at him about it in the daylight hours (although he noticed she rarely did a night). There was no arguing the matter; he'd definitely gotten the easier side of the deal here.

His voice was hushed in a low whisper, as if afraid the shatter the stillness of the hour as he whispered, "have you slept at all?" his breath tickling her neck and blowing the more fly-away strands of hair and Alana could tell his was smiling as he felt the movements inside her. Yes, she was tired, uncomfortable, frustrated and in pain, and Will felt bad for her, but there was no hiding the wonder and upmost joy when he felt the life they'd created. He was still largely in shock, his entire life had done a complete 180° turnaround, and there was a part of him that was _convinced _someone was going to take this all away from him; that they were just lurking in the shadows getting ready to pounce, to rip them apart.

Alana knew his fears, she understood. How could she not after... Well, after_ everything _he'd been through. So she'd let him be over-protective, let him watch over her like a hawk ready to leap to his feet and jump to her aid (most of the time), let him touch her, rub her ever growing belly (seriously, could it actually get any bigger? Of course she knew she'd gain weight her shape could drastically change but _this _was ridiculous, and she'd found herself scoffing, becoming annoyed (okay so she get a little upset too) at the classic perfect Hollywood bump in TV and movies she and Will watched. The perfect, fairly small roundness around the torso and barely any other weight gain where as she basically felt like a goddamn whale. Everything seemed bigger and that was just not fair) every chance he had. And truthfully, she liked this too, she was glad she got to share this with him.

"A little," Alana relaxed a little against him, her head lolling back over his shoulder exposing her throat, and had circumstances been different Will would have taken the opportunity to kiss along the sensitive pale skin she'd uncovered, taste and nip his way to the point just behind her ear that if he reached had her completely melt into him, a trick he'd found not too long before they'd conceived their baby- perhaps even the very trick responsible for said baby. Under other circumstances he'd take the opportunity to show her how adored her, he'd take the time to worship every inch of her again, see if there were any other little tricks, little tickles or reactions he could find he didn't know about yet. But the circumstances weren't different, and it would be inappropriate to take her now, with her eyes unable to stay open any longer, her entire body oozing exhaustion. Poor thing.

So he swallowed the primal testosterone and arousal at the sight of his partner, his love swollen with child, instead increasing the pressure a little to combat a harsh kick by her ribs, that had her whole body tense for a second. "It feels like it's doing somersaults," she explained, head still leaning back, eyes still closed, "always a night too, a little night-owl baby."

Will laughed, he'd been laughing a lot more recently, hell he'd had a lot more to laugh at these days, "he takes after his Daddy." He felt Alana's smile more than saw it,  
"perfect, you can do those feeds then," she didn't miss a beat, sharp as always. She'd suffered from awful nausea, feet that would swell twice the size, insomnia, and heart burn galore but Pregnancy brain had (thankfully) not reared its ugly head.

Pushing herself away from the warm comfort of his chest having indulged in the embrace for as long as her conscience would allow at this time of night, Alana sighed, any amusement vanishing as quickly as it appeared, "you should go back to sleep," a slight hesitation as she felt the baby shift again, "I'm probably just going to do a lap or two downstairs, drink some herbal tea, see if that'll help."

Wordlessly, Will actually did lay back down, which surprised Alana and she tried to ignore the spark of disappointment at his lack of fight, but she was hormonal, and emotional, and dammit she didn't want to cry over letting Will go back to sleep of a few hours before their alarm went off in the morning. But just as she was shifting ready to push herself off the bed, an activity (and yes it was becoming a goddamn _activity) _that was becoming more challenging than the good doctor cared to admit, she felt a hand grab her arm gently coaxing her back to lay down, any obligatory objections dying on her tongue with the realisation of his intentions.

There was no way she was going to protest.

Over the past couple of months Will had discovered the best strategy to help calm little Will Jnr when he was restless. Okay, so they'd technically yet to find out the sex of the baby but somehow it turned into Will Jnr whenever it was being awkward or a nuisance- a trick Will had Bev Katz (one of the few people they'd kept in contact with after the move) to thank for that he believed- although why it had stuck he didn't want to think about (and why he did it too he wanted to think about less so).

The fell into position easily, both on their side, Alana facing away in a little spoon position tucked in safe and warm. God she just adored this man. His large hand moved to cover what he could of her swollen bump easing the circles, increasing the pressure a little in the occasional areas, the baby finally calming a little. It never failed when Will Jnr became excitable, but only with Daddy. A typical 1950s 'wait-until-your-father-gets-home' but hey, it worked, and right now Alana wasn't complaining.

Even after the baby had calmed for the most part, Will's gentle massaging continued, working to calm every last little movement, feeling Alana melt against him.

Few words were spoken in the late night, few were rarely needed between them. It had been Alana and Will for so long, far longer than either of them dared to admit and it was just unnecessary. They just lay there enjoying each other, listening to the breath of the other, and the sound of the ocean in the not-too-distant distance, one of the main advantages that had them (Will more so) fall in love with this house more so than any other they'd looked at.

There, in that moment in time, in that little house by the sea, wrapped up in each other's arms, dogs sleeping downstairs, was complete heaven. It was family, _his _family.

Risking the silence, Will whispered against her hair, "you're just breathtaking," he hadn't felt any movement from the baby (peaceful now, no longer Will Jnr) and Alana hadn't shifted in discomfort at any he'd missed but still the gentle massage didn't cease. He was in full on Daddy mode; his favourite mode.  
"I know," Alana's reply, once again not missing a beat, despite the slightly muffled slur betraying her half-asleep. It was impressing really, and he smiled against her dark hair, ignoring the few strands tickling his nose.

Still in protective, loving Daddy-mode (God _he _was going to be a _Dad_), Will found himself instinctively tightening his hold on his family (God, he had a _family_), not enough to disturb Alana's fall to sleep, but tight enough to reassure himself that they were there. His gaze slipped down to look at the outline of the bump in the dark, it wouldn't long now, and they still had so much they needed to do but somehow he wasn't really worried. "That better?" he whispered, knowing the answer anyway, and knowing he'd only get the vague affirmative hum he received.

He closed his own eyes, breathing in her family, subtle scent, listening to the distant waves easing him back to his own sleep, a random thought of one of the boat motors he was working on idly skipping through his mind, thoughts starting of fog with sleep.

But before he could slip into unconsciousness properly he was started by a low guttural scream from somewhere in the distance, followed by another, and another. Alana seemed unaffected by animalistic cry but Will... Will was unnerved.

Another cry, this time louder, closer it seemed to shake the whole house as he was completely ripped brutally from his deep slumber, away from his little family, his perfect house, his sleeping dogs, away from the sounds of the ocean with a frantic gasped, lungs desperate for oxygen.

He jumped up in a sitting position on the hard cot, drenched in the familiar cold sweat, blue eyes darting around the small, grotty cell taking stock of everything; he small dirty sink, the hard, uncomfortable bed, the open toilet in the middle of 'his space' (no privacy provided- you and no here), the bars trapping him inside. The memory- the realisation- of where he was hitting into him painfully.

_Baltimore State Hospital for Criminally Insane. _

No move. No sea. No innocent name. No little house. _No Alana, no baby._

Dragging a large hand down his face, feeling the light scratches at the stubble Will twisted to sit on the edge of the cot, his bare feet hitting the cold, hard floor as he heaved a heavy sigh willing himself not cry over what _wasn't _taken from him. It couldn't have been taken- it never _was. _

He sat there quietly, unmoving as he listened to his fellow inmate down the corridor screaming over and over, feeling his own scream swelling deep in his throat, but he wouldn't let it out. He couldn't let it out.

He wouldn't sleep again tonight- he didn't want to! Not if his psyche could be so cruel like that.

Absently, he saw the orderlies scuffle past his cell to most likely sedate the screaming inmate. Will didn't move, just sat there staring off at the barren walls trying to forget the feeling of his child that never existed, would never exist, move beneath his hand.

He'd never imagine he'd ever miss the Ravenstag...


End file.
